


Turnabout

by enigmairi



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-02 06:32:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6554959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmairi/pseuds/enigmairi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I'm pretty sure somebody once told me that passing out in the library is the kind of thing you're supposed to seek medical attention for.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Gratuitous h/c fluff. Rating is for canon-typical swearing.

“Where is he? Where's John?”

Alex launched himself at the front desk of the Health Sciences library, out of breath and oblivious to the line of people already waiting for attention. He braced one hand against the desk while using the other to drag the knitted hat off of his head, all the while staring at the confused library assistant with a terrified intensity.

“I got a phone call; they said my boyfriend collapsed.”

The library assistant blinked in recognition. “Oh, of course. Come with me.” She held up finger to the student at the front of the enquiry line, mouthing 'one minute', the motioned for Alex to follow her down a nearby corridor. 

“We let him hide out in one of the staff breakrooms until you got here, to give him a bit of privacy. Being sick is bad enough without a horde of first year medical students fighting over which one of them gets to play doctor.”

“Is he alright? I mean, why didn't anyone call an ambulance? Or get him to the hospital that is literally on the campus?”

“He wouldn't let us – said he thinks he's got the flu that's going around and got light-headed when he stood up.” The library assistant paused at the breakroom door. “We agreed to skip the ambulance, but nobody wanted to send him home on his own.”

She pushed the door open to reveal an utterly dejected John Laurens curled up in one of the room's small armchairs. Huddled under his coat as if it were a blanket, with his head resting on his shoulder and his eyes closed, he was a picture of exhaustion and misery. All of the colour had drained from his face, leaving his freckles and the dark circles under his eyes standing out in sharp contrast. If he heard the door, he didn't show any sign of it. 

Alex crossed the room and took a seat on the low table in front of his partner's chair. “John?”

This finally got a reaction. “Hey.” John's eyes opened and he lifted his head, swaying dizzily for a moment until he adjusted to the marginally more upright position. 

“Hey.” Alex reached out a hand to stroke John's upper arm through his coat. “So, funny story: I was about to go in to my afternoon class when I got a call to say that I was needed at the medical school because my boyfriend just fainted in the library.”

“I was only out for a couple of seconds.” John cleared his throat in the hope that it would make him sound less hoarse. It didn't work. “It's not that big of a deal.”

“Not a big deal? John, you were unconscious on the floor.” Alex turned to look for the library assistant to back him up, but she was already gone. “I'm pretty sure somebody once told me that passing out in the library is the kind of thing you're supposed to seek medical attention for. He was a smart guy too; ended up going to med school. You should probably take his advice.”

John sat up further and rubbed at one eye with the heel of his hand. “Can we not argue about this right now? I feel like shit and I just want to go home.” 

As if to prove the point, John's voice cracked on the last word and he dissolved into a coughing fit. 

“Home? Jesus Christ, are you listening to yourself right now? I think you need to see a doctor.” 

Alex slipped his arm round to rub John's back as he got his breathing under control. Once the fit had passed, John tilted forward to lean his forehead against Alex's shoulder. 

“It's the flu. They'll just send me home with instructions for rest, fluids, and over-the-counter meds. And I could infect other people in the waiting room – there might be babies or cancer patients, and this would be really dangerous for them.”

Alex sighed and closed the circle of his arms around John's back to pull him into a hug. 

“Are you sure you're okay to go home? You feel really warm.”

John nodded in to Alex's shoulder. 

“Fine, but don't make a habit of doing this. You really scared me.”

“'m sorry.”

John put his arms around Alex to return the hug, and for a few seconds they held each other, until John broke off to cough into his hand again. Once he had composed himself he looked up to see Alex giving him a worried look. 

“Okay. I'm getting us an Uber back to the apartment. There's no way I'm taking you on the subway right now - you look like patient zero from a zombie apocalypse movie.”

\----------------------------

Alex hovered at John's elbow all the way up the stairs to their apartment. It made him feel like somebody's grandmother, or maybe it was just the flu making it feel as if he'd aged fifty years in a matter of hours. In the living room he paused, tempted to flop down on the couch, but Alex spotted his hesitation and took him by the shoulders to guide him through the last few steps and sit him down on the foot of the bed. 

John tried to tell himself that the room couldn't possibly be as cold as it felt. If it was the room it wouldn't feel as if the cold was spreading outwards from somewhere inside of him. Alex was talking to himself, or maybe to John, as he opened cabinets and drawers around the apartment, gathering things. John tried to concentrate on the familiar, domestic white noise instead of how the shivering, which doesnt seem to stop even though he's drawn himself as far into his coat as he can, like a turtle into its shell. 

“John? Shit.”

Alex stood at the bedroom door, holding a steaming mug in one hand and the plastic container they use to store their medical supplies in the other. 

“You should have said if you needed help. No, I should have offered. You've been sitting here in your coat when you could have been in bed.”

“Sorry?” Bed sounds nice. Warm. 

Alex's face crumpled, but he quickly turned away. He planted a kiss on the top of John's head as a silent apology before starting to strip off his outdoor clothes. John whined in displeasure as his coat was peeled off and his shoes were pulled from his feet. Removing his pants and sweater was even worse, like some cruel and unusual punishment. 

“I'm sorry babe, I'll do this as quick as I can.”

It occurred to John that this isn't something he would normally want to hear in the bedroom, but it seemed unfair to make a joke at the expense of the man helping him into his most comfortable pyjamas and tucking him into bed. John tried to take a moment to wallow in his misery, but his attempt at a dramatic sigh triggered another coughing fit and he's suddenly curled in on himself again, desperately trying to catch his breath.

There was nothing about this situation that didn't suck. 

Alex perched on the edge of the bed and pulled John into sideways hug, gently rubbing his back until the coughs subsided. As his breathing evens out John leaned in, seeking comfort anywhere he could find it.

Okay, maybe having Alex here didn't suck, but that was the only thing. 

“So what am I supposed to do first, future-Doctor Laurens? Give you the meds or check your temperature?”

“Temperature.”

Alex rifled through the box of supplies until he found the thermometer, which he attempted to hand to John. However John's hands were already occupied with staying under the bed covers where it was slightly less cold, so he opened his mouth and allowed Alex to place it under his tongue. 

“102.4. Fuck. That's not good.”

“It's not that bad.” John rested his head on Alex's shoulder and looked up at him pitifully. “Meds now?”

“And tea – you'll need to use your hands this time.” 

John sat back against the headboard to receive the magic items. The mug was unexpectedly heavy, but its contents were blissfully warming and took away the bitter aftertaste of the pills Alex fed him. 

With the edge taken off his physical misery, John felt himself starting to wilt and shuffled down the bed into a more horizontal position. As his eyelids drooped he felt Alex's hand, first brushing his forehead, then carding through his hair, gently soothing him in a way that the painkillers couldn't. Then finally, safe and as close to warm as he was going to get, he slept.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented or left kudos on the first chapter. This is the first thing I've written in a really long time and your encouragement has meant a lot to me.

When John woke it was to a unfamiliar room where an eerie glow from one corner cast long shadows and he could hear something scrabbling around in the dark. 

He drew in a breath with which to start properly freaking out, but then he blinked and the world reoriented itself. He realised that he was still in the same place that he had fallen asleep, but hours must have passed because it was now dark. Alex sat cross-legged on the other side of the bed, working by the light of his bedside lamp, surrounded by books and writing furiously in the notepad balanced on his knee. 

“What time is it?” whispered John. For a moment he wasn't sure whether his voice would carry over the pencil-on-paper scratching, but Alex must have been on high alert because he put the pad aside without even finishing his sentence. 

“It's just after six thirty; you've been asleep for about three hours. How're you feeling.”

John took a moment to go through a mental inventory of his symptoms. He wasn't as cold as he had been earlier, but this meant that he was now more aware of everything else that didn't feel right. His head ached, his throat and chest felt as if they had been scoured with sandpaper, every tiny shift in position made his skin prickle, and he wasn't sure that he had the energy to explain all of this to Alex. 

“Awful.” 

“Aww honey, I'm sorry. What can I do?” 

Alex started to rub John's arm through the blankets, but instead of bringing comfort this time it elicited a wince. 

“Okay, so not that?” 

John shook his head and then coughed into his pillow. When he eventually looked up again, Alex was sitting on his hands, a concerned expression on his face. 

“You should have something to drink. Does that sound like a good idea?”

“Mm.”

“I'm going to take that as a “yes”. Good call. Although, to be honest, if you had said no I probably would have tried to make you drink something anyway.”

John closed his eyes again, listening to the clink of glasses, and what sounded like an epic battle with their ice cube tray. When Alex reappeared in the bedroom he was carrying a tall, cold glass of something unnaturally green, complete with a bendy straw. He sat down on the floor at John's side of the bed and so that they were at the same eye level and held out the straw just in front of John's mouth. 

John sipped and made a face. 

“Sports drink. And yeah, I know they taste weird because you always try to force them on me when I'm sick, but right now you could probably use the electrolytes and calories.” 

John decided that this probably made sense, so continued to drink. The cool liquid soothed his throat, and as John drank Alex seemed to relax a little. 

“You think you're up for some food? I could get you some toast, or soup? I'm pretty sure I saw some canned soup earlier -”

“Ugh, no. Not hungry.”

John tried to burrow further into his blankets. The ice in his drink seemed to have triggered another wave of chills. Or maybe it was time for another dose of meds. John hoped it was that, because at least that way it would have an easy fix.

“You look like you're not doing so good. Can I?” Alex extended a hand, hovering an inch or two from John's forehead until he gave a nod of assent. “I think your fever's going back up. We should check with the thermometer.”

John shook his head. “No point. Cold drink'll throw the reading.” The effort of stringing so many words threatened to set off his cough again, and he swallowed desperately to suppress it.

“Shit, sorry. I should have checked first.” Alex consulted his watch. “It's another half hour until you're due for more meds, so is there anything I can do in the meantime?”

“Just got to wait it... out.” The last word came out as a squeak as John dissolved into a coughing fit. He curled round his pillow while Alex looked on, nervously fidgeting as if he didn't know what to do with his hands. 

As John settled down again, Alex seemed to reach a decision and climbed back on to the bed, digging out his laptop from where it was hidden under one of his legal textbooks. 

“Okay, if there's nothing else I can do then I'm going to try and make the next half hour as bearable as possible. You need a distraction, so we're going to watch some Parks and Rec and by the time the episode finishes it'll almost be time for your next dose. Now, do you want me to stay over here, or get under the covers so you can snuggle for warmth?”

“Snuggle.”

Alex flashed John a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. “See, I knew you kept me around for a reason.”

\----------------------------

The rest of the night followed a cyclical pattern. The medication provided John with some relief for three hours then wore off during the fourth, leaving him shivering and in pain. 

Neither of them got much sleep until the early hours of the morning when, after some frantic googling, Alex discovered that they could stagger doses of ibuprofen and acetaminophen so that each one covered the other's ineffective period. John was briefly embarrassed not to have thought of this himself, but decided that his professional pride was a small price to pay for feeling less terrible. Even so, being woken by an alarm every two hours so that an increasingly worried Alex could feed him more pills wasn't that much more restful. 

After his rough night John surfaced at around 10am, finally feeling as if he might be ready to face the day, even if it would be a day spent mostly in bed. He pulled himself up to set against the headboard and surveyed the room – even more chaotic than usual – before he had to pause for a rest and another coughing fit. 

The noise summoned Alex back to the bedroom.

“John! You're awake – how are you feeling?”

John made a seesawing “so-so” motion with his hand as he fought to get his breathing under control. 

“Yeah?” Alex perched on the edge of the bed and gently brushed John's hair out of his eyes. “Because you still look like an extra from a zombie movie.”

John flipped Alex off. It took an unreasonable amount of energy, but it was worth it to see a more genuine smile from his boyfriend. 

“I'm going to take the obscene gesture as a sign of improvement, but we should probably check your temperature again.”

“Okay.” John frowned at the gravelly sound of his own voice, but allowed Alex to put the thermometer into his mouth and even hold his hand while they waited for the reading. 

“101.3. Yeah, definitely improving.” Alex looked relieved. “But there's no way you're going anywhere today.” 

“Wasn't planning on it.” 

“Good, because I was thinking we could hole up in here and watch Pixar movies.”

“We?” John raised an eyebrow.

“Unless you'd rather be left alone, of course. I can sit in the other room and just check on you every so often.”

“No, I mean, don't you have class?” 

“I'm taking a personal day.”

John shot Alex an incredulous look. If their positions were reversed he would have to hold Alex down to stop him from going to class; come to think of it he was pretty sure he'd actually done that at least once.

“Look, you're really sick and I just don't think you should be on your own.” Alex dropped his gaze and twisted a corner of the bed sheet nervously. 

John reached out a hand to still him, feeling Alex's fingers tremble under his own. 

“Stay?”

“Of course.” 

At that moment, it seemed that what they both needed was each other.

\----------------------------

Twenty-four hours later Alex's fussing was starting to try John's patience. Logically he knew that his irritable mood was mostly due to the fever, but over the past two days his misery had received all of the sympathetic company it could stand and right now he wanted nothing more than to be left alone. 

“I'll be fine. I can get to the bathroom on my own and you've put literally everything else I might want on the bedside table.”

“You've got your phone? And you promise you'll call if you feel any worse?”

“I promise.”

“Are you sure you don't want Lafayette to come over and sit with you?”

“It's only a couple of hours. Go to class, Alexander.”

“Okay, okay, I'm going.”

Alex gave a mock salute as he retreated from the bedroom. John listened for the snick of the front door, then gave a cautious sigh of relief. Silence.

John slumped down into his pillow and allowed himself a few moments of unadulterated self-pity. He had barely left his bed in two days, and while he knew that the work for his classes was piling up he barely had the energy and concentration to read a Buzzfeed article, let alone a medical textbook. He basically had two options for how to pass the time: sleep or Netflix. At this point he was pretty much slept out, so he reached for the laptop. 

But today Netflix wasn't providing the distraction John needed; he surfed listlessly through the opening scenes of half a dozen different shows, but couldn't find anything that would hold his attention. No matter how he arranged the pillows and blankets he couldn't find a comfortable position, and his skin itched with dried sweat. He realised with mild horror that it was over forty-eight hours since he had last washed, and that he must be utterly disgusting by now – a theory which was confirmed when he ran a hand through his hair and some of it stayed standing up on its own. 

The more he thought about it, the more convinced John became that taking a shower was the answer to all of his current problems. The warm water wouldn't just get him clean, it would ease the aches in his muscles, and the steam would be good for his cough. It would break up the monotony of his day and give him something purposeful to do. And after that maybe he could upgrade from sleepwear to loungewear and spend a couple of hours on the couch for a change of scene. Shower? Fuck yes, John was doing this. 

The floor tilted under his feet for the first few seconds, but just as he was starting to reconsider his shower plans it levelled out. He could do this. He shuffled around the bedroom collecting a clean towel, underwear, sweatpants and a hoodie before starting the trek across the apartment. He could do this. In the bathroom he deliberately avoided looking in the mirror and started the shower running before stripping out of his pyjamas. He could do this. John Laurens was going to shower like a motherfucking adult. 

John actually groaned with pleasure as the water hit his skin. It felt every bit as good as he had hoped and he took a moment to congratulate himself for what had turned out to be a pretty awesome idea. The muscles in his arms were starting to burn with the effort by the time he finished rinsing the conditioner out of his hair, but it was worth it to feel clean again. 

It was only when John stepped out of the shower that his energy started to run out. Towelling himself off was a tiring ordeal, and getting dressed used up the last of his strength. As soon as his hoodie was over his head John leaned back against the wall and slid down it until he was sitting on the floor. Okay, so maybe showering had been unexpectedly exhausting, but he just needed to rest here for a few minutes. 

\----------------------------

John was startled awake by the sound of Alex's key in the front door. 

“John? Are you okay?” Alex's footsteps crossed the floor to the bedroom and John realised belatedly that he'd left his phone at the other end of the apartment. Shit. 

“In here.” 

Alex practically knocked the bathroom door off its hinges in his rush to get to John. Wild-eyed, he sank to his knees, hands going to John's shoulders.

“Are you okay? Of course you're not okay! Have you been throwing up?”

“Alex –” 

“That can't be a good sign. I think we need to get you to the ER.”

“Alex –”

“I'm so sorry; I shouldn't have left you here alone.”

“Alex, I'm okay.”

“What?”

“I'm okay.” John took Alex's face in his hands, thumb stroking across his cheek. “I took a shower, I got tired, I must have fallen asleep in here.”

Alex sat back against the side of the bath with a thump. “You bastard!” He made a noise halfway between a strangled scream and a hysterical laugh. “You weren't answering your phone – I thought something must have happened!” 

“I'm sorry. I'm okay.” 

Alex dragged his hands through his hair a couple of times to calm himself down, then pulled John into a fierce hug. “You're okay.”

“I'm okay. Are you?”

“You scared me so much. I ran all the way from the subway. I thought I was going to find you unconscious or dead.” 

“But I'm not.”

“No, you don't have the energy to get off the bathroom floor and you're telling me that you're absolutely fine.”

Alex stood up and reached a hand down to pull John up to a standing position. 

“Yeah? And who does that remind you of?”

Alex looked up at John with his best innocent expression. “I don't know what you mean. Now, it's time to get you back into bed.”

“Urgh, I've been in bed for two days; I'm moving to the couch.”

“Fine, couch it is then.”

Alex helped John get settled, bringing him blankets and pillows from the bedroom, and his now overdue dose of flu meds. When he was finally comfortable, Alex leaned over to press a kiss to the top of his boyfriend's head. John couldn't be certain which one of them it was meant to reassure. 

John reached an arm out his blanket nest to take Alex's hand. 

“How did you get so good at looking after other people?” 

“I think its fair to say that I had a great teacher.”


End file.
